


Fated Dreams

by baeksbabygirl, peachenhun



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 19:17:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeksbabygirl/pseuds/baeksbabygirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachenhun/pseuds/peachenhun
Summary: Ancient History major Jongdae finds himself either transported back in time or lost in a dream where he meets an old royal family who now believe he’s their god.





	Fated Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> First off, thank you to the mods for being so patient with me as I worked on this fic. It was kind of really difficult for me to write, so I hope it turned out really well. Thanks to my beta too, because she seriously puts in extra hours (and puts up with me). Thanks to everyone who reads this as well <3

“You’re always sitting here with those stuffy old books, Jongdae.” Baekhyun commented. 

Jongdae had been trying to study, to read up on the mythology and history behind the lecture he would be having in class tomorrow. Which was exactly why his face was perpetually buried in books pertaining to his major. Baekhyun – a language arts major – understood only some of what Jongdae was studying, and though he was also a bit of a history nerd, he wasn’t as detail oriented as Jongdae was.

“As if you don’t have your head buried in your dictionaries twenty-four seven?” he asked, scoffing at his roommate without even looking up from the passage he was reading. It was about a certain royal family that he had seemingly picked up on out of nowhere. He had never heard about the Oh family before, but the history and culture behind their signature and crest was interesting to say the least. Jongdae found himself wanting to find out more and more about the ancient royal family – wanting to know all their names, where and how they were buried…

He was especially intent on learning about the youngest son of three, Oh Sehun. There wasn’t much written here about him other than that he was the youngest, and had only been twenty-three when he died.

Which even during those times was quite young when most people died at the age of at least fifty. It intrigued Jongdae and only made him want to relentlessly turn the pages to find more.

Baekhyun bounced on the edge of Jongdae’s bed, effectively taking his attention from the book before him. His roommate stuck out his tongue miserably before grinning wide and going to pull at his wrist, trying – and failing – to drag him up from his most comfortable spot in the middle of his bed. Though the mattresses were not the best, Jongdae had invested in more than just one cushion top. In fact, he was probably about a foot off from his actual mattress.

“C’mon, Dae.” Baekhyun whined – like he always did. “You’ve read enough, haven’t you? Besides it’s just a lecture and small presentation tomorrow and you don’t always have to play teacher’s pet. We’re seniors. Don’t you think we should at least enjoy our last few months of freedom before they throw us into the real world?” 

Jongdae wanted to scowl and tell Baekhyun no – wanted to tell him that they already were in the real world and that Baek was just deluding himself into thinking otherwise. But the other part of him urged to agree and follow after Baekhyun wherever he wanted to lead Jongdae, only hoping that they didn’t wind up in some ditch by the end of the night.

The last time Jongdae had agreed to go out at night with Baekhyun, the two had gotten far too hammered, and Baekhyun hadn’t been able to speak in English  _ or _ Korean. In fact, Jongdae couldn’t even remember what language Baekhyun had been speaking in, but it had certainly not been any of the languages that he knew. Not as if that said very much. Jongdae was learning Greek and Latin, not the dozens of languages that his roommate and best friend drowned himself in constantly.

Baekhyun pulled at him again and scowled, “So are you going, or not?” asking once more before getting up from the edge of Jongdae’s bed, hopping up and down before getting up on his own bed to reach up at the top of his wardrobe. It was so much taller than either Baekhyun or Jongdae, but he still found it funny every time he watched Baekhyun reach for whatever he had hidden at the top of the wooden piece.

Like the hidden liquor he had just reached for to bring down to their level. As if neither of them were legal age – Baekhyun was always hiding odd things here and there. 

“Really?” Jongdae said without anything else but a raised brow in question. Baekhyun only shrugged and offered him some without a word. Jongdae denied the offer and suggestion before Baekhyun was scoffing and going toward the door, raising his phone.

“Suit yourself.” He said, “But if you change your mind I’ll be over in Moon House.” And then he promptly left, shutting the door firmly behind himself.

Jongdae ignored the guilty feeling of letting his friend leave, but did send a quick message to Kyungsoo to keep an eye on their mischievous friend – knowing that Kyungsoo lived closer to Moon than Jongdae did and if something went really wrong, he’d be able to get there much faster. 

Soo messaged him back in less than five minutes with a thumbs up – answer enough that Jongdae went back to his reading and tried not to worry about all the dumb stuff Baekhyun would get up to that night.

 

No more than a few hours later and Jongdae was basically on the edge of the bed, getting deeper and deeper into the book he had found stuffed on an old shelf in the library. The lecture tomorrow was going to be an introduction about ancient noble and royal families of all cultures, right before each student did their own presentation on the subject. So he had been dead set on finding someone or some family that was too obscure for anyone else to find. And maybe Baekhyun had been a little right about the fact that Jongdae didn’t always need to be teacher’s pet, but he  _ liked _ being right, and  _ liked _ knowing things, especially new things. It was something that drove him towards his major in the first place.

There were too many things that they didn’t know about the ancient world that were just too taunting not to try to uncover.

While reading, however, he stumbled upon a fragment on the chapter on the Oh household that spoke of rituals and magic – something along the lines of the family worshiping gods and old deities that had been long forgotten even in those times. The book seemed to even hint at that being the reason why the youngest prince – Oh Sehun – had died in the first place.

Something of a ritual gone wrong, if he was reading deep enough into it.

A poor mistake that he would – or maybe he wouldn’t – regret later was when he read the inscription beneath the old printed photo of Oh Sehun’s tomb. Jongdae probably butchered the words, only just barely able to read them in the marred up book as it were.

In one moment he was reading, and then in the next the whole world had blacked out and he felt like he was sinking deep into something, his lungs and throat closing off, barring him from the scream that wanted so desperately to escape…

Jongdae wasn’t sure how long it took, but he felt like he was drowning or sinking or being pulled deep into the earth. The area around him was closing in on him, barely able to breath enough, let alone able to talk, or scream, or yell for help. Had he fallen asleep while reading, having imagined the most interesting part of the ancient book he had taken from the college library?

No, that wasn’t possible. His body and mind would have woken him by now if he was dreaming.

As if by chance, Jongdae started to feel fingers stretch toward his own, granules of what almost felt like wet sand now parted as skin touched skin and suddenly his arm and shoulder were on fire as he was being  _ dragged _ out of the earth, pulled in the opposite direction of whatever being was trying so desperately to pull him down into the very depths of Hades.

When the sand and granules parted for him, allowing for him to take a staggering, grasping breath of air, he coughed too loud and wanted to keel over, throat tight and dry as he dragged in breath after breath, hoping only to get enough air to ask where he was.

Jongdae heard a voice then, someone that sounded concerned and worried, and slightly familiar. He must have just woken from a dream – that must be it. Everything around him was cloaked in darkness, a shade of black covering his eyes from seeing much more than a few feet in front of him. But no, this was not waking up. It was like being catapulted back into a nightmare, only a different terror awaited him on the other side of the illusions. He could see the edge, very close now to him, of the sinking sand that taunted and almost waited for him to come back inside its depth. Taunting, but also drawing him closer, inviting him in.

He shuddered at the thought of actually letting the depth compel him forward, breaking the eye contact with the depth and turning to thank whoever had saved him from such a horribly slow death.

Turning, he couldn’t see the person behind him very well, their face blurred because of the sand that still stung at his brow. It had been wet and was now plastered to the entire surface of his body, including his bare shoulders that he had not realized prior to that moment were bare. Looking down at the rest of his body, he was glad that just his upper torso was bare of clothing, but could not fathom why that was. He at least wore something around his middle, covered his thighs and what lied between.

“Where am I?” he asked, only to listen back to his voice and wonder what language he had just spoken. His mind was playing tricks on him, making the words sound like an elegant mess, as if there was ever such a thing. 

The stranger before him at least seemed to understand him – and even went so far as to speak back to him in the language he had used.

A clearing of their throat, and then a voice that sounded almost guttural in the way the tone cut through the thick air, “You have been summoned from the other realm, Oh Great One.” The voice stated before continuing, “It is your era to bring hope and good fortune to all those that worship you. Are you not ready for those to praise you in person?”

There was a pause, Jongdae unsure what he could possibly say. He had studied so many ancient religions and rituals, but could not place what this was, or even what time that book had landed him in. He could only guess it had placed him sometime in the same age that the youngest prince of Oh family lived within. It was clear that the story had surrounded him, and if Jongdae guessed correctly, then he knew which deity the stranger before him was talking about.

But he had absolutely no idea how he could possibly start to impersonate a god of such high caliber. The book he had read on the Oh family had not been extremely specific of the order of the gods and spirits within their time. Especially not as the royal house worshiped gods and beings that had been long since forgotten, or had been shunned and purposefully removed from other stories of the same history. 

Jongdae did not know whom he was speaking with, if it was one of the many worshippers within the Oh household, or if it was someone who had been converted because of the royals’ devotion to their trade and rituals.

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to react, and honestly wished he had Baekhyun with him in that moment, as his best friend would have eased at least some of the tension spreading through his body.

Deciding to play it as cool as possible, he replied, “And if I say I wish to be returned to the Other World?”

But there was only a laugh in reply, a clear dismissal of his suggestion. 

“My Lord, it is finally your time! Have you not been wishing to come to the Mortal plane for eons now, since you were first banished to the Other World? Surely there must be some part of you that misses the taste of human flesh and blood.” Jongdae wasn’t sure if it would be wise to flinch and cringe at the words, but he could not help the imperceptible reply to such things. The man before him seemed to notice, but said nothing negative after seeing the reaction, “See? You tremble at the thought! You missed this world, of the tactile worship and offering, did you not, My Lord? If I were a god, one as high and mighty and powerful, I would ask the mortals for all that they could give me after returning, especially as you will be bringing them riches and glory for their miserable mortal lives.”

Still, Jongdae did not know how to respond or what to do. If he messed up would this stranger and the other worshippers put it up to him being new to this mortal world, or would they put it up to him being an imposter and execute him for it?

He could not remember what the ancient text had said about the penalty for lying.

The man before him obviously saw that he was unable to respond, or that he was having difficulty thinking of an answer, so he only reached out his hand and offered to help his “Lord” as he must have been drained at the moment, too far overwhelmed at being summoned to the human realm. Jongdae took his hand, but tried to play it off as he would have thought a god would, grumbling without words beneath his breath and scowling slightly at the thought of a mortal man helping his godliness up from where he was on the ground.

“You should rest, My Lord.” The stranger spoke up again, eyes going wide as his expression spoke of how eager he was. “There are many that I will have you meet in the morrow, but you should regain your godly strength for now.”

Jongdae – still unsure what to do or say – simply nodded and gruffly spoke up in that other language that he had no idea how he knew, “Very well, take me to my quarters.” 

He must have sounded good enough that the man before him set off without even a question of doubt in his voice, only asking for Jongdae to follow after him, promising him that the rooms were going to be much better the next day and throughout his Lord’s stay in the mortal realm – befitting that of a King, he promised.

Jongdae wasn’t sure how he got here, he only hoped he didn’t royally screw things up before he found a way to go back home.

 

The next morning Jongdae awoke to the ground beneath him moving, and for a moment he had forgotten where he was. He wanted to scream at his surroundings until he remembered what had happened the previous night – his throat then closing in on itself as he remembered the burning sensation that had spread through his lungs on his way through the earth and sand. He remembered the confused state he had been in, the doubt clouding his mind as the darkness around him the previous night had not lended even an inch to work. The only thing that been at least some sort of comfort to him was the knowledge he had gained from that ancient text – the one that spoke of the royal family he would, no doubt, eventually meet.

But now it was the next morning and he wasn’t sure how much of this he could keep up with, until the ground stopped moving beneath him and he realized that he was not in the traditional guest room he had been kept in the previous night, but one of those moving platforms that also doubled as a couch and bed within the canopy surrounding the outside of the vessel.

He wondered where they were moving him, but did not wonder long as a man pulled back the canopy shades and greeted him good morning.

“Lord! We feared you wouldn’t wake from your sleep for a good long while. We are almost at the palace, so do not worry much. My brothers and father will take great care of you, I am sure.”

It was then that Jongdae realized he was being carted along by one of the very princes he had read up on only the previous night. Only just glancing at the man, not wanting to look far too closely at the prince, he could not determine which prince it was that had summoned him from his own time. Maybe it was the oldest prince of the three – the heir. Or maybe it was the middle son, the one that the ancient text had described as his father’s lease favorite.

Perhaps that was why this prince had summoned whom he assumed was a god. Jongdae was anything but a god.

True to his words, they had arrived at the palace no more than an hour or so later. The guards at the castle gates were adamant on knowing exactly who resided in the prince’s holdings, but the prince only scoffed at their questions, his voice faint as he spoke. Jongdae wondered if he had actually retained some of this god’s immortal abilities when passing through the earth, or if the curtains surrounding him were just  _ that _ thin. He couldn’t know for sure, even as he listened closer to the prince say it was an esteemed guest, and someone who his father could explain to the guards later.

The guards at the royal gates let them pass, if not begrudgingly, and surprisingly enough, the prince settled into a stride beside where Jongdae was being held – like a prisoner with a more luscious taste. He was frightened that as soon as he stepped into that palace the other royals would see him for who he truly was and behead him.

Or maybe it would be a slow death, and they would dismember him piece by piece.

Jongdae shuddered at the thought.

“My Lord, we have arrived at the palace!” the prince outside stated, before Jongdae felt the canopy bed move and fall to the ground gently, allowing for him to actually move and step out of the now-still canopy. 

The prince before him bowed, his face much prettier and lighter now that Jongdae was not looking at it in shadows and darkness. The night prior he had been unsure if he was looking at a corrupt man that had fallen to evil, or something else entirely. But no, looking at the prince now Jongdae could see the frail lines of worry that dotted his smile – despite its beauty – and even the small sun spots that dotted his face. Clearly not as many as if the man worked in the sun all day as Jongdae was sure a vast many of the servants did.

“My parents will be very eager to meet you, I am sure.” The prince said, voice rising in excitement. No, he was certainly not the same overzealous man from the previous night, where darkness had lended to his crazy. This man seemed like a proud puppy that only wanted to please his parents. Jongdae felt sorry for this prince, and wondered if Oh Sehun had felt the same before he died.

Jongdae wondered, too, if the youngest prince had already passed – but the middle prince had mentioned brothers, plural, when he had mentioned his family. So he had to hope the youngest and most interesting son was still alive.

He decided to buy some time to collect his thoughts, mentioning the fact that he would like to be bathed and clothed first before being presented to the “leaders of this realm”. It couldn’t hurt to be slightly removed from reality, right? And besides even that, the prince before him seemed to want to oblige him most things, if not for only the reason that he believed Jongdae was a god. He fought to please most people by the looks of it, ordering the servants around him to bathe and dress Jongdae, but also thanking them then for their service.

It did not take very long for those servants to steer him away to the connected bathhouse, a private room set off exclusively for the guests of the royal family. Nor did it take them very long to dry him – something he wanted to be squeamish about, only to remember that it was quite a normal thing for not only the royals, but for the nobles of this age as well. Let alone the fact that he was supposed to be a god – someone that certainly had his own manner of servants or slaves in his own immortal realm. This would have seemed nothing for a god, and so that was who Jongdae became.

A god.

No more than an a few hours into the process of make believing he was a god, he felt this guilt spring up inside his chest. This wasn’t him, but it  _ had _ to be if he was going to get anywhere, or ever hope to return to his own world. Jongdae wondered if it would remain all the same, or if time would move differently back home. 

He wondered if Baekhyun would come back to their dorm after his night of drinking only to find Jongdae gone without a word. He wondered if Baekhyun would care – but knew he would. They had been friends all four years in college, Baekhyun would notice and worry if he was gone.

But he still tried to move past that thought, keeping it to the back of his mind as the prince came to retrieve him from the servants, finally going to introduce him to the rest of the royal family. And while he did so, Jongdae walked with his head up and a look about him that spoke of power and not of fragility, which is how he truly felt. He needed to do more than just speak like a god, but he needed to dress and act like one as well. He was at least thankful for the clothing they had dressed him in – fitting the part there without much of an effort.

The prince opened the doors to what Jongdae could only have assumed was the throne room. This allowed for the guards to move past the two of them, coming up on either side. They moved quickly while the two approached the King, Queen, and the two other princes standing upon the dais. Both of which looked down at Jongdae as if he were the scum beneath their feet.

At least, that was the look he was receiving from one of the princes before him – the taller of the two, though he looked younger by at least a few years. That had to be the youngest prince then – Oh Sehun.

Jongdae found himself intrigued, but also worried as to why the youngest prince was giving him such a look. Could he see through Jongdae’s façade so quickly?

“My son, we received your message, but never would have thought you actually meant to bring a god back home with you. Are you sure this man is not an imposter? How did the two of you meet?” the Queen started, speaking before her husband. Of the ancient text Jongdae had read, he knew that it was the Queen that held the Oh surname, and that the King was merely a consort for Her Majesty, who rules more alongside her sons than her husband. Their story had almost reminded Jongdae a bit of Catherine Medici, who had ruled alongside her own children as they had taken the throne.

He wondered if it would be the same when her sons took their rightful places as rulers of this ancient land.

The prince bowed before his parents and brothers, but Jongdae did no such thing, keeping with his illusion of being greater than everyone that surrounded him. He did not miss the crumpled and slightly aggravated look that flitted across the youngest prince’s face when he did not bow to the royals. Like he was beginning to truly hate Jongdae.

“I summoned him from the earth myself, Mother. He is no imposter.” But even as the prince started explaining all that had happened when he summoned the “Great One”, his parents seemed skeptical of all that he said. They did glance many times at Jongdae, as if he would have given away something in his face to the truth of it all.

But even Jongdae didn’t know how he had been summoned to this other world, so he wouldn’t have been much help. He continued to play along and hold himself to another standard as he stood there.

It was the oldest prince that spoke up now, “You truly did it then? All that time spent away with the priests and they taught you of summoning gods as if it were child’s play?” the oldest prince seemed to be getting somewhere with his questions, but Jongdae did not like where this was going. He gestured for the prince to stand before him, taking a step in the royals’ direction and then motioning back toward the middle prince.

“I can only be summoned if I wish to be summoned, mortal.” He said with a thickness in his tone that had the oldest prince taking a step back and raising a brow curiously at him, “Had you been the one to summon me, I would have descended back into the earth and cursed you and your kin.”

Silence fought around them, threatening to break as the oldest prince tried to regain his fallen dignity where Jongdae had smashed it to pieces against the marbled limestone floor. 

Now was when the youngest prince stepped forward, voice cold and distant as he asked his own question of the “god”, “And if I had been the one to summon you?” before even letting Jongdae speak up to answer his question he waved a hand in dismissal, “I highly doubt you would have done much more than stand there and act threatening. I can see through you, even if you are a god. You are weak, and have no powers to speak of, not even to curse us with.”

The Queen lifted a hand to her youngest son, scowling and threatening to punish him should he speak of the gods – of any god – in such a manner. She even went so far as to apologize to Jongdae, wishing that he would not take her youngest son’s words to heart as he did not believe in the gods as the others did.

“He is not often as devoted as the rest, My Lord.” She started, using the same form of respect that the middle prince had only earlier. Jongdae could see now that even with so little words spoken, she was beginning to actually believe he was more than just a mortal man. Maybe he really could pull this whole thing off. “In fact, I think it would do him some good to spend time in your presence, so that he can learn respect for the gods, to learn how to praise and worship them when they are so close.” And in a stage whisper she turned to him, adding on, “Close enough to punish his disrespect.”

Oh Sehun scowled, but otherwise remained quiet.

Jongdae could remember that the gods and spirits the royal family had worshiped were not as well spread as those the rest of their kingdom had adopted – but that the royal family worshiped them despite all of that, choosing to dig those gods from the earth and old, ancient stories that had been buried for centuries prior to their rule. Jongdae wondered if it was a past generation that had decided that for the royal family, or if it had been the Queen sitting before him now that had decided that for her descendents and children.

That would certainly explain Sehun’s skepticism.

Jongdae tried listening very intently to the next of what was discussed, mostly the Queen and her middle son going back and forth and debating on where to hold the “god” standing there to the side. He moved so that his arms crossed against his chest, hoping that this would come across as slightly impatient rather than just another movement to do in his boredom. 

He was trying hard not to continually sneak glances over at the youngest prince, wondering if he was still standing there with that cold, frigid expression on his face. All directed towards Jongdae.

But even just glancing from the corner of his periphery, he could see the prince glaring at him. He certainly was not giving that up anytime soon.

“He can have the vacant quarters in the East wing, where I am sure His Almighty may be most comfortable, closest to the sea.” The Queen suggested, but the middle prince then argued, saying the god would much prefer the North wing where he would be closest to the sky, as he had been trapped in the earth for so long. 

It was then that the youngest son spoke, this time much less rude than he had been earlier, “Why not place him in the Western wing in the Rose hall, where he will be closest to the temples within the palace.” Jongdae heard this and his mind immediately went back to the text he had read, where the Rose hall had been commended for its luxury even though it was placed in one of the lower levels of the castle. It had been one of the very first halls to be decorated and built, and though that had been the case, it truly only housed priests, priestesses, and the royals when they were too tired to go from the temples in the hall to their own rooms on much higher levels of the palace. Jongdae remembered the photos of the tapestries that had hung along the walls of the Rose hall, or within the rooms of the royals that inhabited them. They had been absolutely beautiful, even if they were not going to be exactly what he saw today, and were only as beautiful as images and pictures could say.

The Queen and middle prince agreed with Oh Sehun’s suggestion, and as if in punishment, the Queen then told her youngest to escort Jongdae to his quarters so that he could get comfortable. 

Jongdae did not miss the scowl that Jongdae shot his mother behind her back, but nevertheless he remained quiet, chin high as he watched the prince very closely. Had he been acting as himself he couldn’t have looked so closely at Sehun, much rather having chosen a more lowkey route at checking the prince out – because that was exactly what he was doing.

The prince was handsome, paler in complexion than his two siblings, but Jongdae had a feeling that was more likely because the Queen kept her youngest son away from traveling or other outside events. It was clear that he enjoyed the shade more than the sunlight, especially as he walked on the side of the hall that was farthest from the open windows, bringing in the light summer breeze from outside. It was a pleasant breeze and if Jongdae did not fear for his life, he would have enjoyed it to the fullest.

But he was somewhere he was not familiar with – with people he did not know – and in a time that he had only read short snippets of history from. Despite how quickly he could pick up everything when reading ancient texts, there was still a massive chunk of history and culture that he would need to read up on while he was here. And that was only going to happen if he could find the library and get away with burying his face in several books for a few hours.

Which, by the expression Oh Sehun was giving him, was not going to be very damn likely.

“I know that you are lying to everyone else.” Sehun started in a whisper as they rounded the corner, the tapestries on the wall changing from one theme to another. Whereas the last hall extension had been filled with those that had ruled in the past, now there were tapestries and paintings that depicted events of war and bloodshed – of winning battles and countries. It spoke of the history of this nation and family, and Jongdae could not help but stare at them for a moment or two.

He was listening to Sehun though, and he scoffed at him as if he wasn’t afraid of such a thing – them all finding out he was faking it.

“And you have no respect for the gods, clearly.”

What Jongdae had not been expecting was what he said next, “The gods don’t exist.”

There was a long bout of silence between them as Sehun wisped past, up and down the different halls and through the many staircases. Enough of them, and all in silence, that it had Jongdae wondering if he should have said something, and whether it was a mistake whether he didn’t.

When they had reached the lower level of the castle, the walls changed to an almost granite texture, though they were also lined with tapestries, paintings, and decorations such as masks or memorabilia from war or the like. Jongdae found himself trying hard not to become too invested in looking around, but Sehun noticed anyway, and chuckled beneath his breath.

“It’s fine if my brother put you up to this, if he’s asked you to pretend to be a god while he gets praise from our mother.” He shook his head, “My brothers have always been the ones to seek more attention from my parents, especially my mother as she is the one that holds the crown and name. So I was not surprised to see that he dove more into her religion and beliefs when my eldest brother and I rejected them, choosing to remain with the old ways of our people, rather than adopting a new way of praising the same gods, of worshiping the same gods under different names, according to her. It never really mattered to me. They are all figureheads more than anything else, no?” and Sehun actually turned to Jongdae as if he was going to answer that honestly. 

The youngest prince laughed.

“If you do not believe in the gods, and you believe I am an imposter, then why not try to prove it more to your mother? Why play along and let me stay here a moment longer?” Jongdae asked in a quiet voice, not wanting anyone else to hear.

He had a feeling that Sehun wasn’t going to say anything, no matter the truth coming out.

He shrugged, “Everyone wants to live in luxury, and I am sure that there are many that would die to become a king, let alone a god.” And then the young prince let out a breathy sigh, “I receive attention because I am my mother’s favorite, not because I am her oldest and will inherit her throne one day, or because I am the middle child and will own land and marry well – though I have no doubt that my mother will marry me off well. No, I am her favorite because I am the youngest and do not have the responsibilities that the others have. I do not have a crown looming over my head, nor anyone truly to impress into thinking I would make a great king, because everyone knows that I will not be king. My mother has always chosen me as her favorite because of that. She wants us all to be free, but knows she cannot control the others’ destiny and what they were born for. So she spoils me and lets me do as a wish to an extent.”

Jongdae wasn’t sure why the prince was complaining about something like that – if he was indeed complaining.

“And you do not like being the favorite?”

Sehun chuckled loudly at that, a sound that reverberated through most of the burgundy-carpeted hall. 

"I certainly don't mind it, but even when you're the favorite, there are eyes on you, certain expectations. Especially for a prince within a nation so heavily dependent on gods and magic. It's all fake, so much of it is fake and it's almost laughable what others will believe." 

Sehun, unlike how cold and to himself he was within the throne room, seemed slightly more open, but almost cynical with the way he spoke now. Jongdae wasn't sure if this was just the prince's personality or if it was something else. He did not seem the type to speak much, and so he wondered if there was going to be an end point.

Not that he entirely minded. Jongdae actually quite liked Sehun's voice and the way he spoke. It was soothing in a way - even if he was indeed complaining about his family and title.

Jongdae wanted to ask what the point of such a conversation was, until the prince stopped before a set of doors and nodded for Jongdae to open them.

"You're the god, don't you know how to open doors?" he asked smugly, a little bit of warmth seeping into his voice as if they were familiar, or at least as if Sehun was being snarky and playful with him. Jongdae almost wanted to see both sides of the prince, if he was being honest with himself.

Without replying back, he did step forward and stepped back into that role he had been playing of god. Even if Sehun knew the truth, he couldn’t slip here and there just because Jongdae decided to trust Sehun to keep his secret. But, maybe nothing bad would happen anyway, if his secret was revealed.

This could all still be a dream – something that he hoped fervently he would awake from before things got too dangerous.

The room that the double set of doors opened up to was much more than he would have expected. Like the floors outside the massive room, the carpets were a rich burgundy color, unlike the cheap, carpeted floors back in his dorm room. Those were an awful pale maroon that had a multitude of stains he didn’t even want to think about.

The room before him was luxurious if he had to describe it in any other way. It looked like it was truly built for a king, and he wondered if Sehun had chosen the room out of irony or if the other rooms were all decorated just the same. 

There was a large tapestry hanging along the far wall, next to the settee that bordered the open face shelved walls – their shelves full of books that he would no doubt be skimming through soon. The detail on each item within the room was amazing and he found himself a bit speechless, unsure how to react other than just to stare. He had gone on tours of mansions and old castles while studying abroad, but it was nothing compared to this. He had seen ruins and rooms that he hadn’t been able to touch or get to close to, but Sehun urged him to step further within the room. Just as he let the door close with a heavy click that seemed to fit the gravity of such a room – the significance of all of this.

He was supposed to be a god – or so everyone had to believe. Jongdae wondered if they would ask things of him that a god would be able to give.

If he could remember correctly, the “Great One” that the middle prince had called him had been banished for giving humankind too much, while also feeding on the unrighteous souls that dared challenge him. He shuddered at the thought – and of the thought that the royals here might want him to do that very same thing now that he was “back” from his banishment. 

Jongdae truly hoped he would be safe here, or wake from this almost-nightmare before the Queen asked him to feed on her prisoners of war.

Moving around the room and touching each velvet piece as if he had never seen anything like it before, he looked back at the prince like a child might look at there parent, half expectant and excited to see their reaction. But Sehun stood there coldly, a change in the atmosphere from what he had been only a minute or two before. His brow was furrowed as if he was confused, but Jongdae couldn’t place the reason why. 

“For a god, I would have assumed you would have seen a room like this before.” The prince said, only to catch Jongdae off guard for a moment, nearly forgetting that he was playing a role and that even if Sehun knew the truth – or some part of the truth – he still had to pretend.

There could be ears listening in, or Sehun could still betray his trust. After all, Jongdae had known the prince for all of what? An hour? There definitely was not enough between the two of them yet for trust like that, even if Sehun had promised not to say a word.

“My…previous lodgings weren’t as  _ expansive _ as this.” Jongdae settled on, wondering if Sehun would laugh at him for the word or if he would nod coolly with that look of his.

It was the latter.

Silence run between them, as if had seemed to ring for a little while at least. Until that is, it was interrupted by a knock at the door, both of them stepping back to see who it was, and also resigning back into their own roles required of them. Sehun as the aggravated young prince and Jongdae as the almighty and powerful god.

The one that had only been resurrected from the earth no more than twenty-four hours earlier.

“Your Highness.” The man at the door started, bowing at the waist. He was young – maybe not as young as Sehun, and maybe he was older than Jongdae was physically, but based on the clothing he was wearing, it was clear that the man was a priest of some sort. He wondered if like in other cultures and ancient civilizations there was a way to tell – some insignia on the man’s clothing – that would have told Jongdae which of the gods this man called his patron. Which god did he belong to?

Though if he was being intuitive about it, he would have already assumed that the priest worshiped him – or rather, the god that everyone now believed he was.

“Almighty.” The man said next, after Sehun had nodded the man’s greeting away as if in dismissal. Jongdae tried to put on that  _ I could not care less _ face that he had always imagined an all-powerful god would possess, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was convincing. Sehun certainly didn’t seem to think so, either. Not if the sound of his short chuckle said anything of the sort. “The Queen and second son made me aware of your presence.” And then the priest got down on his knees, the door still half open, and starting to pray in a language that Jongdae could understand, but had no idea why.

This had to be some sort of intense dream – though Jongdae hadn’t even had a drink of Baekhyun’s odd alcohol concoction before his best friend left the dorm earlier, before all this nonsense started happening.

But that also seemed like forever ago, and he wasn’t sure how to tell time between this reality and his own.

Jongdae was a little hesitant to step in and tell the priest to get up, but when he saw Sehun’s reaction to the whole thing – his clear disinterest and almost disgust in the whole situation – he went immediately to the priest still pressed to the ground mumbling utterances of praise, and he rested his palm against the man’s back, making him still, mid-sentence.

“No need for that.” He said, trying to stop himself from referring to the priest as  _ man _ or  _ friend _ , because that would most definitely give him away. Jongdae brought his hand away from the priest’s back, taking a step further from him and regarding him calmly. Was he supposed to be a vengeful god, or one that was revered for his kindness and intellect? From what Jongdae had read of the god, he had been both feared and loved. 

He had displayed the fearful, almost reserved god within the throne room, but perhaps with his priest he should have seemed grateful and kind? He thought that would be a good start, and certainly better than trying to be truly someone he was not. Jongdae was compassionate, and that other side of the god suited his own personality more than anything else did at the moment. If he had to pretend to be someone, or something else, he would try to fit into that role as much as he could while still being realistic to himself.

“My Lord, we had never thought you would return from your banished slumber within the earth.” The priest stood there in awe, and Jongdae could understand why, “To see you here in the flesh, after only reading of your history…” his eyes grew wide as if he had thought of something startling, “It is an honor, My Lord, to serve in your presence.”

Sehun actually did laugh out loud now, to which Jongdae cut him a sharp look as if to tell him to be quiet. The prince only raised his chin as if he were ignoring Jongdae’s look, before he introduced Jongdae to the priest now dipping to bow once more to him.

“ _ Lord _ …” the young prince said, the word coming out as if it were poison welling in his mouth, “Meet your humble priest, Junmyeon. Junmyeon, there’s truly no need to continue bowing to him, honestly.” And the prince seemed aggravated with the priest, as if he couldn’t quite possibly stomach seeing any more of this right now. Jongdae wanted to scold Sehun, but then realized that he was in no position to do so. To Sehun, Jongdae was an imposter and could be ousted at any moment in time.

Though, no one had believed him in the throne room, so Jongdae hoped that even if Sehun did reveal the truth, no one would believe him for a second time.

The priest shook his head, eyes wide and gleaming as if he were hurt by the prince’s words.

“You should show more respect to your gods, Sehun. One of these days, they may just strike you down for your disbelief.” At that, the prince said nothing. He did not need to say anything for both Junmyeon and Jongdae to understand that the young prince was disregarding their words before they had even fallen completely from their lips.

Sehun was a bit of a lost cause when it came to religion and faith, Jongdae could see that much. He hoped that it would only aid in his disguise. Confiding in one person here would do his mind some good, even if this was just some sort of nightmare.

Junmyeon continued on, stating that there was going to be a banquet in Jongdae’s honor later that evening, and that the god should prepare with his formal wear, Junmyeon even offering to dress the god in his finery for the event. Jongdae declined though, perhaps too quickly, and asked instead for servants to come dress him and fix him up for the party and banquet in his honor. Junmyeon only nodded, obliging his orders – and making him wonder if the priest would do anything he asked of him.

It would best not to push it.

When Junmyeon the priest left the room, the door closing once more firmly behind him and his flowing skirts, Sehun cleared his throat and looked half-expectantly at Jongdae, who’s brow furrowed in question before speaking aloud.

“What?” he asked.

Waving a hand, Sehun went towards the door, and before opening it leaned in a tad too close to whisper to Jongdae.

“I do not know how you are going to keep this whole charade of yours up, but you have my attention, so I will keep your secret for now.” And then, before Jongdae could respond to thank him or curse him, the youngest prince was gone from the room, leaving Jongdae to his own devices.

The first thing he did was go sprinting for the bed, jumping into the soft feathered down and burying his head in the pillows, wanting to scream in delight of the comfort.

So not all of this dream was bad, then…

 

Over the course of the next several weeks, Jongdae tried to get used to the fact that he was not waking from this dream anytime soon. The royals that surrounded him had promised him luxury, and the youngest prince had promised to be his confidant. Still, the fact remained that he would need to get used to this world, and so he had started to read.

There had been a reason why he had decided to major in ancient cultures and mythology in school – if not just for the fact that he liked learning, but the cultures fascinated him and he could see threads of similarities between the past and present. Greek culture and government had been just one brick in the backbone of the American government system, whereas the Roman government – their Republic – had been another stone laid bare before the world. 

Jongdae found it interesting to see that there were threads and whispers of the same within this culture and history as well.

The many books lining the walls were of varying degrees and genres – some told of history from other nations, while others were books of language or faith. He found that no matter the language the book was written in, he could read it without much difficulty. It took his mind a few minutes to understand the language – and then to draw up the name for it aloud – but nonetheless, he could understand it with increasing ease as he continued on. 

This was more than just a dream, he was starting to realize.

Other than just reading more, and finding out about the different aspects of life within this court, he was asked to ceremonies and banquets as an honored guest. He was asked to sit in on meetings and though the foreign diplomats that came to visit the Queen’s palace did not understand who or what he was, they had a certain level of respect for him when they were in the same room. Sehun usually confided in Jongdae that the same diplomats spoke candidly amongst themselves of their distaste for him, but he also made sure to comment on the fact that they did that with any and all royals.

Jongdae was now no more different than one of the royal family to these foreigners. And he wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing.

As time went on, not only did Jongdae become more familiar with the interworking of court, but he also got to know the youngest prince more. Cold at first, and quite detached from everything around him, Sehun showed Jongdae that there was more to him than their first impression of one another.

The prince was still cold and bitter and…resilient in his disbelief that the gods existed, but he was also warm and contradictory, too.

Jongdae noticed it when he walked into the stables one afternoon, catching his breath as he looked up and hid for a moment, a conversation continuing from somewhere within the barn. He had never been the type to be nosy or listen intently to conversations that did not concern him, but he had recognized Sehun’s voice immediately, and wondered what the prince was doing in the stables – speaking seemingly to himself.

He had truly walked into Sehun brushing at his personal mare, sweet words filling the air rather than the electric, intense ones that often filled the air during their banter back and forth with one another. It was an effort indeed not to raise and eyebrow or step out and ask Sehun what he was doing. Jongdae knew that the prince would go right back to his cold, reserved and secretive self if Jongdae revealed himself, but it was also going to happen at one point, unless he left before Sehun noticed he was there, pretending as if he had not even stopped by.

But Sehun’s voice came through louder after a minute or so of his soft cadence, sweet familiar words echoing through the stables with the surround sound of horses and cattle pacing or waiting in their stables.

“I know that you are there.” He stated, hands brushing together before he patted the horse’s side – an audible sound – and rounded the corner to raise an eyebrow at the hidden Jongdae. Though he was not so hidden anymore.

Jongdae grinned sheepishly before commenting, “You’re kind to them.” And then as an afterthought he asked, “Why?”

Sehun rolled his eyes at the question before stating, “I am a nice person, just…not to most. I can be kind, as long as I see kindness in return. The person you see at court is a mirage, an illusion of sorts.” And then, as if he had sensed he had gotten too serious for his current company, he snorted a laugh and shook his head, “What do you care if I am nice?”

Jongdae wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and more so didn’t know how to answer because he had only known the prince a few weeks now, a little over a month. The past month of this dream-reality had proven that the prince was not as cold as he liked everyone to believe, and in fact had a heart and warm smile that had Jongdae wanting to lean in closer and get to know the prince more than he did – more than just the snippets of things he had learned from that ancient text before being forced into this new world.

The conversation at hand changed quickly as Sehun went to walk out, and though he did not want to seem eager or like a lost puppy following after the prince, Jongdae followed him, trying to keep stride with the prince’s long legs as he walked forward, eyes set on the gardens that led into one of the massive libraries in the palace.

Funny, how Jongdae had been thinking of spending the next few hours within the libraries after he had visited the stables. Sehun had either been picking up on his habits, or he was simply cutting through the massive rooms on his way somewhere else.

Oddly enough, Sehun cut directly to one of the many sections within the library that housed the translated texts – those that had been transcribed from older languages to the common tongue of the kingdom centuries ago, whereas others were still written in their original language, the characters printed or written closely on the pages. Sehun picked up several books and asked Jongdae to read them aloud.

So he did.

It took him a little while to go through them, and every few sentences he read, Sehun would urge him to move to the next, to read a random line from the journal and then translate it into the common tongue. Jongdae was sure that the prince was testing him somehow, but had no idea why that was.

When he had gone through more than ten of those books, setting them down back where they belonged on each shelf, and trying at perfection, he looked up at the prince and wondered aloud what that was for.

Oh Sehun remained quiet before taking a seat across from Jongdae, along the settee towards the back shelves, where the space was quiet without an intense echo like the rest of the library. He looked very serious as he sat there, not telling or asking Jongdae to take a seat beside him, and choosing not to say a word until Jongdae stood there, his arms extended in question, palms flat to the air.

“How do you know all of those languages?” the young prince asked.

Jongdae paused and wondered if he should answer seriously. Instead he answered Sehun with a question of his own.

“Aren’t gods supposed to know the languages of their people?”

The prince scoffed at him – something that was more popular than Jongdae’s confusion of this world. 

He crossed his arms against his chest before replying, “Do you honestly believe I am going to fall for that again? You are no god, nor will you ever be.”

Jongdae saw the challenge in his eye but shrugged, nonchalant enough that Sehun almost looked like he was about to sit up from his position on the settee and slap him across the face for the insult. As if that would not get him a scolding from the Queen in return if she ever heard of such a thing. And he was sure there were eyes watching them, perhaps even ears listening in on their conversation. So Jongdae was careful with what he said.

“You can believe whatever you wish to believe, but the truth will remain. I know those languages, and I know of the past – my past – more than you will ever know. The gods’ world is not for the eyes of mortal, and yet I’ve allowed you a look into my world.” Jongdae had a feeling Sehun was going to ignore his words, completely dismiss them for utter nonsense, but he was a little surprised to see the prince’s brows rising in confusion and intrigue – as if he wanted to hear more. “If I was not a god, I would not have survived in this palace surrounded by demons.”

Sehun chortled at that last comment, playing off his emotions with that laugh – the one that had become such a common thing that Jongdae actually found himself leaning into it, wanting to hear more. When had that happened?

“Demons, I can imagine. There is always going to be evil in this world. I know the histories, know the stories and rumors of our great nation before my family had conquered the realm.” The prince paused, but after a moment of contemplation he continued, “I have seen you reading – of the history of this place. If you  _ really _ are a god…” and he stressed the words lightly as to make a point, “You should remember the past of this nation.”

Jongdae shook his head, response quick.

“You keep forgetting how your brother raised me, don’t you?” Jongdae let a smile slip – that role settling into his mind as he played his part. Suddenly it had become more of a reality than anything, especially as he had been living this lie-truth for the past few weeks. If he lied about something enough, he would soon come to believe it, too. And that was what had happened to an extent. “Not all my memories of this world transferred to my corporeal form when I was brought back from my sleeping, banished state in the earth.”

There was a long pause – a long silence that Jongdae found more terrifying than anything else. He almost craved Sehun’s approval, not just his sworn secrecy of the truth. Though looking at him now, he could almost imagine Sehun believed his lie right now – could almost imagine that the prince would have backed his story to the other royals on the concept that Jongdae was actually telling the truth.

But then Sehun shook his head, standing and going to pass Jongdae before saying, “You’re a good liar.” 

Jongdae watched the prince leave, wanting to ask him to stay and teach him more of this world, but knowing better than that and choosing to hold his tongue. He watched the prince go, wondering what their next encounter would bring.

 

Weeks passed still, and with the weeks and days that passed them by, Jongdae grew more accustomed to everything moving around him. Not only did he seem to fit more easily into the role he had developed for himself as a god, but reading the foreign languages was becoming easier, as well. He wasn’t sure how he had initially known them, considering when in reality he was barely able to scrap by with English and Greek, but…these languages just seemed to be buried in a place deep inside his head, just waiting for him to dig them out.

So he did, and now it was like second nature to slip between languages at events and banquets – speaking casually and even going so far as to talk politics and culture with foreign diplomats that the Queen invited to her gatherings. 

Some of the diplomats even grew accustomed to him that when meeting with the Queen herself, they asked for Jongdae instead.

The Queen didn’t seem even a little perturbed by that either, not when the priests and priestesses had all promised that Jongdae’s coming back from his earthen banishment would improve diplomacy and bring more wealth into the castle, and then the nation as a whole. 

According to the Queen, Jongdae had done more than that in just three months’ time. 

Not only that, but Sehun actually seemed to be warming up to Jongdae as well. He was not the cold, bitter prince that he had been when they had first met. It was like sunlight peaking through snowy patches within tall trees – beautiful the way the light shined down, but also bright and blinding, too. 

And then at night Jongdae still couldn’t see the stars above, the snow blocking it and only showing dark around. It was like a catch-22 with Oh Sehun, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it, but he was learning. With the youngest prince as his ironic teacher.

The two often spent time together in silence, only talking when Jongdae would ask him a question – mostly on events that he did not understand, or did not know how they correlated to the reaction from the nation. Most things were cut out or not written in full, so Sehun explained to Jongdae how he had been taught by his tutors when he was younger, his voice soft and delicate despite his hard exterior. And Jongdae realized that he was only asking more questions at one point to see the prince smile, to watch his lips move as he spoke.

Something that he had tried hard to ignore, but now it was clear that there were some feelings lingering there – and he was unsure what to name them.

This was a dream, not a true reality. He should not have been getting so invested.

Still, Jongdae listened intently to what the prince was explaining, all ears as he spoke coolly about a war that had broken out centuries ago – tearing the nation apart enough that they became two separate kingdoms.

“You see, when the fighting had first started, it had only been over a small disagreement. A brick wall had been placed over territory by some of our nobles, with lands close enough that their borders were touching each other. One brick out of place, and the other lord started complaining to the council and their king at the time.” Sehun rolled his eyes. “It was a simple fix, but the nobleman went to the council and escalated the issue without asking the other noble to simply move the brick back where it should have been. It was the thing that started the war – because of course the king wouldn’t march his army down to one of his lower nobles’ estates just to ask him to move a brick back into place. I don’t think the king and his council ever realized such a silly thing would cause an outright war, so they had laughed at the request and dismissed the noble, telling him to deal with his own petty issues before running to his king, who had much more severe wars to wage, and politics to discuss.”

Jongdae asked what had happened next, the sound of Sehun’s voice soothing as he spoke, and his quiet laughter as he described certain histories entertaining as well as lovely. He had such a nice laugh, and Jongdae found that when he laughed in tandem with the prince, Sehun smiled more warmly. 

There was something brewing between them, though Jongdae was trying hard not to encourage it.

“The nobleman raised an small army against the other man, all for a brick, and that was when the other noble collected other nobleman and their own forces to strike back. It turned into a battle of allegiances – those that had ideals and politics that ran in line with each noble. And they suddenly had a war on their hands, all over a single brick.” Sehun shook his head once more, “The things people go to war for…”

He was a little quiet, but he understood, a myth coming to mind before he was able to hold his tongue – and then he was telling the tale of the woman that sailed a thousand ships with her beauty. Sehun listened just as intently as Jongdae had when Sehun was speaking, and even looking up occasionally between sentences, Jongdae could see the prince looking at him as if he were a special thing – as if he actually was a god, or something similar. He almost wanted to lean forward and kiss the man, but he held back and continued telling the story to the best of his ability. He spoke the characters’ names – Helen and Paris – and described how though it was taboo to run away with someone that was not her husband or betrothed, she had done it anyway to not only appease herself and her whims, but also to appease Aphrodite with her wants and desires. Jongdae commented on the fact that the goddess had done that many a times in history, and still did it to those in the present time.

Sehun, after a while of silence after the story, asked Jongdae if he had a lover stolen away from him under the goddess’ jealousies.

“Even as a god yourself…” and Sehun didn’t seem to be joking or making fun when he mentioned Jongdae being a god, “Can the goddess take your loved ones away if she so wishes?”

He honestly was not sure how to reply to that – a sort of speechlessness that he found himself succumbing to lately these days with Sehun. The prince would do or say something that was either out of character for him, or that was too abrupt for Jongdae to process immediately. A question like that made him really want to think – had the goddess of desire taken someone from him to give to another?

Jongdae answered honestly, hoping that it came back as more than just a sad, pitiful story.

“She took someone from me once, but I also have always believed I drove him away myself with my actions.” He smirked, a sad lonely thing playing up in the corner of his mouth, “I was a jealous and spiteful person…a jealous and spiteful  _ god _ .” Sehun did not even blink or make a comment about that and so he wondered if the prince finally had started to believe Jongdae was an actual god, or something so close to it that the terminology did not matter. Either way, he continued, “When he left, I raged and tormented. I was young in comparison to now. It was my first serious relationship and I was a little obsessed with him. I had dated only women before, before realizing that there was more than just that one option available, and more than just who I had been playing as, like a character in a play. He was my  _ everything _ . I worshiped the ground he walked on, and it became stifling. We did not part ways very well, and if I could take it all back, I would, but I also wouldn’t.”

A pause before Sehun spoke up, asking him a simple question, “Why?”

He smiled briefly before letting the frown slip back on his lips, “Because it’s all a learning experience. Whether you are rich or poor, royal or a peasant, a god or mortal…things will change and end, just as they need to. And that relationship ended as it needed to, so that I could learn from my mistakes, and so that he could evolve as a person, too. We went our separate ways, but I still wonder – if he’s happy. I find myself thinking of him, sometimes getting angry with myself, and then other times loving the life I am living now.”

Sehun did not say anything after that, only made a sound in the back of his throat as if his questions and curiosity had not been fully answered or sated. He got up then, to stretch, and then he offered his hand to Jongdae to pull him up to his feet, as well. Jongdae was surprised at the offer, but this wasn’t the cool prince that he had seen in the past. There was a warmth and radiance to Sehun’s face that Jongdae wanted to fall into.

“Will you…tell me more of yourself?” Sehun asked after a while of the two standing there just staring at one another, their eyes following as the other moved and breathed.

Jongdae could not help the small breath of a smile that echoed on his face then, before nodding and moving past Sehun, towards the library doors. After their learning and question sessions with one another, they usually departed to their own rooms, but as Jongdae moved through the library, still without an answer for the prince, and then making a turn to the left towards his own hall and quarters, Sehun only followed after him.

So he nodded, asking “What do you want to know?”

 

A week passed, and with each day came a new story that Jongdae told Sehun. They shared stories of course, not just one of them speaking and delivering lines. Jongdae told Sehun of myths and folklore, while Sehun dived into histories and cultures of present  kingdoms, or kingdoms of the past. Most of which Sehun told Jongdae, he was not familiar with. There were more than just this nation that had been kept a mystery – buried by most of history. He found it amazing, not only that Sehun was willing and eager to share such things, but that he would wake from this one day and remember the stories of these lost kingdoms and people.

Though, that was if he woke up from this dream at all. Something that part of him wanted to desperately to do, while the other part of him – the part that had somehow fallen onto the other half of the bed across the prince – craved the moment he was living now.

Did he want to give this up?

There was a pause then in Sehun’s story, and the prince looked up, startled by something. Jongdae had not even been paying attention to his actions when he curled in closer and pressed a hand atop Sehun’s, asking what had scared or startled him.

The prince seemed more taken aback by Jongdae’s immediate, tender response that he only stared until Jongdae realized what he had just done.

The young prince let a smile lip across his beautiful plump lips before saying, “So many stories of you say you were an angry, selfish god. You fed on mortal flesh and drank the blood of the greedy, the lustful. And yet, for all my time spent with you, you have been nothing but kind, and generous.” Sehun’s eyes widened a bit as he continued, “They were wrong when they wrote those stories of you, painting you as a demon god. I promise that I will rewrite the histories of your time here when you are gone.”

Now it was time for Jongdae to raise a brow at Sehun, “And you expect me to leave so easily this time, do you?” he grinned wide, “I’m not going anywhere, not anytime soon.”

He still honestly wasn’t sure how to reserve this, how to get back to his reality, or how to wake from this dream. He still wasn’t sure what this reality was – if he had somehow gone back in time, if he had fallen into the ancient text story he had been reading beforehand, or if he had fallen asleep while reading and this was all in his imagination.

But Jongdae was a reader of mythology and history, not a storyteller. He wasn’t nearly as talented as to come up with all of this.

“But why?” Sehun asked him. 

Jongdae pushed back a little, not wanting to become too close for comfort. They had already invaded each other’s space though, and when Jongdae leaned back, Sehun leaned in forward. It was like a magnet.

“You’ll have to expand on that question, I’m afraid.” He answered.

Sehun’s brow furrowed as he tried to rephrase his question. “Do you not want to return to all the other gods if you had the chance? You were taken from banishment – a fate the humans had sentenced you to, not the gods. Would you not want to return to your own kind rather than stay on earth with the ones that had banished you in the first place?”

It was clear to Jongdae now that over the past few months, Sehun had gone from disbelieving that the gods even existed to now fully believing that Jongdae had come from them, was one of them, and even wanted to return to his own kind. And although Jongdae wanted to return to his friends and to wake from this dream, it was an interesting revelation to see the prince evolve into this sort of person.

Seemingly all thanks to Jongdae.

“There are…things that I miss for sure from my own realm, but there are also things and people here that I have come to appreciate and become close to. I do not blame all humans for my banishment,” Jongdae stepped back into the role of god, using his words wisely and being careful with each thing he said, “If I had the chance to return, I am not sure if I would want to go back, or if I would stay here. I have friends back home, certainly, and I am sure that after all this time away, they have grown to miss me. But I am needed here. The Queen, my priests, all the people that had foreseen my coming back. They need me here.” Jongdae shook his head and imagined he actually was that god in their stories – the “Great One” that had been banished after being tortured by jealous, spiteful humans. He imagined what it would have been like banished inside the earth for several centuries, alone with his own thoughts. And he wondered if he would have even been able to survive such a thing.

Jongdae imagined what that kind of god would have done upon coming back from his banishment, upon laying eyes on a mortal, and just  _ reacting _ to the emotions of the situation.

He would have killed the middle prince if he were that god, and he would have done nothing of what he had upon entering this castle. He could see it now – what would have happened had he the memories of that old god, had he the powers to carry out such things, and then been clouded with rage.

He would have done things he would regret if he had fallen back into his own reality – Jongdae would have also had to live with that, and it would have changed him.

The prince crept forward on the bed, and then his hand was pulling Jongdae’s chin up so he was looking into the royal’s eyes, the beautiful brown of them that gleamed in the candlelight. Jongdae wanted to lean in closer, but he fought against such an urge.

“But you want to go back don’t you?” he asked in a quiet voice, breath playing across Jongdae’s face in a wisp. Sehun didn’t give him room to answer, or to move, either. He was asking in the next second, “If I asked you to stay, even if you did want to go back, would you stay for me?”

And Jongdae knew the answer weeks ago, but he had not spoken his thoughts aloud, fearing that the prince was only interested in him as a plaything – not that the two had done anything. In fact, Jongdae had been very cautious in the last week of Sehun coming to his quarters so as the two did not even risk the chance of it happening. And yet today of all days, Jongdae had let himself grow soft and fallen on the bed to relax alongside the prince.

Alongside his prince.

“Yes.” He whispered. 

Sehun moved in closer – close enough that one movement, one inch of movement forward on either of their ends and their lips would be touching. Jongdae could feel his breath moving the small hairs on his face, and though it would have uncomfortable with anyone else, he felt…something sparking. He wasn’t sure if it was the loneliness he had felt while in this realm, but it was something extraordinary and he did not know how to word it. He would have liked to kiss Sehun – would have liked to do more than that with the prince.

But then Sehun pulled away with a frown adorning his face and he only shook his head before standing, leaving Jongdae there alone on his expansive bed.

“Rest well.” The prince said after a moment of silence and staring, before he was moving quickly for the door and moving further away from Jongdae. He was either a very frustrating tease, or he had not meant to kiss Jongdae at all, fooling him into thinking that perhaps he had a chance with the prince.

Jongdae would have liked to believe it was the former, as he had spent the last week in such close quarters with him, spending so much time together that it was impossible to mean anything but that the prince felt something for him. Still, he fell back against his pillows and buried his face in one of the downy layers, letting a scream escape his throat as he yelled, frustrated.

Perhaps tomorrow would prove to be better, he thought, as he turned again and tried to sleep.

 

The prince had snuck from the palace that night, collecting the ingredients he had been saving and hiding within his quarters for weeks now. When he had first stumbled upon the spells in that forbidden book, he had been unsure of whether or not he should use them or even read further. But then he had seen that god stumbling around and he had felt almost  _ bad _ for him.

Bad in a sense that whoever it was pretending to be a god was as desperate and silly as Sehun had been as a child – pretending to be something he wasn’t until he became something he was destined to be.

Though, Sehun was still figuring that out for himself.

At first, the prince had believed the man was an imposter, someone that his older brother had paid to pretend to be the lost, banished god from centuries prior – the one that so many had praised and worshiped that it was a great loss when the god was banished by those retched people. Sehun had grown up hearing stories, reading histories and books of his Great Second Coming, and how it would bring prosperity to the world and their kingdom if he only just returned for a few months out of the year. 

He had not believed it at first, but then the imposter god had started speaking languages that Sehun had never heard before – languages that had been dead for centuries, and that had no living speakers left. That had almost convinced him that the imposter was the real deal.

The prince was only truly convinced after watching the imposter god interact with everyone in court. After having heard the languages he could speak, he had watched him more closely, hearing his stories and asking him questions when it seemed there was nothing more of him to learn. But then there had been everything of him to learn, and Sehun had become a little obsessed with him, wanting to get to know the god, and actually starting to believe that the man – the god – who he had originally thought was an imposter was the real deal. He only proved as much when he started telling Sehun of the other gods, and then of lovers that he used to have before they were stolen from him. He had been a young god once, and he had lost his lovers to selfishness and greed – the very thing that the god had wanted to save the humans from when he had first lived amongst them.

Sehun was convinced then, and he had revisited the sad stories the god had told him of lost loved ones, the stories of other gods that were happy together whereas this god had been fated to be alone. He spoke of a time when seducing someone, of being with someone, was as easy as breathing. And then he had confessed to be too busy, and then he had been banished to the earth where he could not see or breathe or even speak to another being.

The words they had shared together – Sehun of his nation and world’s history, and then of Jongdae’s – the god’s preferred name, according to his whispers in the library months ago – stories and retellings of fate. 

But then Sehun had asked him tonight if he wanted to return, and there was a tightness in his chest that he could not relieve. He had asked Jongdae if he wanted to return to his friends and family within his own realm, and the god had said no. He had said – in all honesty – that he wanted to stay here and fulfill his duty to the people that needed him.

Sehun had asked the god if he would stay on earth, if he would stay with the humans if Sehun only asked.

And Jongdae had said yes.

That was why, when the prince left the god’s quarters, he went straight for his own to gather the things he needed. At first it had seemed rash, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. There was so much more for Jongdae back in his own world, surrounded by gods and beautiful immortal creatures – those that would live for eons just as he would. Sehun was a mortal, and though he was a mortal prince, it still did not change the fact that he would age and die, while Jongdae would remain the same. Banished for centuries and even then, the god had remained the same. He was still as beautiful as all the stories depicted…

He made quick work of the alter, drawing the chalk ring and marking it with the spell phrasings and symbols within that book of charms and rituals. Sehun knew his mother would have steered him far away from such magic and rituals, but she had never steered her other two sons from the same, so why would it make a difference if he had succumbed to the same practice?

Sehun opened the book at his side, searching for the right spell for the ritual he would be performing. It was an old magic, and he sent a prayer to the goddess his mother praised above all – the one that owned the night sky and escorted both mortal and immortal to their new destinations. Whether that was gods returning to the godly realm, or mortals that were sacrificing their lives to save their loved ones – so that they could live better lives.

He read the words aloud, praying and dusting the circle with the needed ingredients. Sehun knew it was not something to take lightly, and he certainly knew that when the earth started to pull him down, the air around him growing thicker and a hiss sounding in his ears as he continued speaking the still incomplete spell.

Sehun wondered if Jongdae would hate him after this – but Sehun wouldn’t be alive for him to be angry at, would he?

When the spell was complete, the tension in the air lifted for only a moment, a whisper against the trees and rocks, asking for Sehun to speak his last words before the goddess came to escort his soul down into the depths of the earth.

“Let him be happy.” He whispered, hoping the goddess heard his last prayer and knew whom he was talking about.

The trees seemed to bow in answer, a silent reply. 

Sehun’s spirit lifted from his body with one last smile adorning his lips.

 

Jongdae woke with a start, feeling that vise-like grip on his throat once more as he came to from a deep sleep.

“Sehun?” he called out, eyes blinking as he came to in a familiar, yet unfamiliar place. He was not in his palace quarters, and Sehun was no where to be found, his mortal prince gone from his side. Not that Sehun had made any habit out of staying past a certain time with him.

But now that Jongdae looked around, he realized that he wasn’t in the Rose hall at all. He wasn’t in the palace. He wasn’t even in the same time period. 

Searching the room for any indication of what had changed, as he had been sure there had been a three month span of time that he was away, in that other place. Had it been a dream? Had the book and inscription on the printed photograph transported him back in time? Jongdae wondered if time had stilled while he had been away and if at this point school was over and Baekhyun and the rest of his friends and peers had put up missing posters for him.

But everything had remained the same, the street light from outside shining through as it always did when it got darker out. Glancing at his phone on his bedside table, he noticed that the time had changed from when he had been reading the book. Or at least, he thought it had changed. To him, it felt like three months ago, whereas in reality it was more like three hours.

Frowning, he realized that it had to have been a very vivid dream. Because what else could it have been?

The notifications on his phone told him that Kyungsoo did indeed look out for Baekhyun and his stupidity that night – enough that Baekhyun was apparently in Kyungsoo’s dorm, fast asleep and probably going to be nurse a nasty hangover the next morning. His friend’s picture came up on the screen as Kyungsoo called Jongdae, one missed call previously telling Jongdae that while he had been off in that other world – for three months or three hours, he couldn’t be sure anymore – Kyungsoo had tried to reach out to him.

“Hey.” Soo started off, voice tired.

Jongdae immediately signed into the speaker and apologized, “I fell asleep while reading, I’m not really sure how long I was out for.” But what came out of his mouth was not English or Korean, but that other language he had spoken while he had been dreaming – the language he had not known how he knew, and hadn’t really questioned it beyond that first week or so among the ancient royals. 

Kyungsoo was clearly confused because he cleared his throat before asking if this was Jongdae he was speaking with.

“Is Baekhyun teaching you some of those weird languages, too? Or is this for your major, cause it sounds like you, but I have no idea what you’re saying, Dae.” Kyungsoo started, voice a bit irritated, something that Jongdae didn’t hear often from Kyungsoo unless Kyungsoo’s foreign roommate Kris sex-iled him from their dorm room.

Which didn’t happen often because Kris never really got laid.

“Sorry, I’ll be right over to pick up my mess of a best friend. Thanks for taking him to your room and making sure he didn’t get in any more trouble.” This time he had made sure his words were in the correct language, but it was certainly more of a struggle than it should have been.

Kyungsoo told him not to worry, that he could take care of Baekhyun for the night, only wanting to let Jongdae know where the poor, drunk thing was. Whatever was in that concoction of his earlier had clearly done a number on him according to Kyungsoo, who said that when he had found the other boy, he had been bent over a toilet waiting to throw up his lunch  _ and _ dinner, as well as everything he had possibly had to drink that day. 

A part of Jongdae wished he hadn’t woken up from the dream he had been having – wishing he was back in that comfortable bed with everyone believing he was a god, with everyone looking to him as if he could solve all of their problems. 

But instead he had a drunk best friend of a roommate – and a lecture tomorrow that he had just nearly forgotten about. So he said goodnight and thank you to Kyungsoo, hanging up the phone and then trying to go back to sleep…

Jongdae just lied there for a few hours though, mind racing at a million miles all trying to find out how exactly he had come back. He had thought going back meant finding that sand pit where Sehun’s brother had taken and raised him from the earth. He had thought it meant starting a ritual that would somehow return a god to their own dimension or realm – hoping that it would work for a mortal that was either in the wrong time, or had been sent back through his dreams to a time that once existed in their world, but had been gone for so long that even history had buried their stories.

Jongdae couldn’t help but remember Sehun leaning in close to him, close enough to kiss, and yet so far away. He had told Jongdae to rest well, but it had sounded so…sad and lonely. 

Had Sehun done this? Had the youngest prince somehow found a way to return Jongdae to his own without telling him? He had thought the two were getting along, had even started to realize that Sehun believed he was an actual god. Sehun had kept his secret for three months, and all for what? To send him back home?

It just didn’t make sense. So Jongdae opened the ancient book again, searching and searching for that inscription that had led him to that other world in the first place. Where was it?

But on the page that he could have sworn held the inscription under the photo, all he found was the photograph. And not only was it familiar, but it was a picture of the tapestry that had been in his quarters while he was there. There was no possible way it could have all been his imagination, this book – that inscription that was no longer there – had to have done something.

Or else he truly was going crazy, imagining it all.

Jongdae eventually fell back asleep with the book propped open on his chest, the page open to the same as it had been for the past hour or so as he read and read and read – hoping to find that inscription somewhere hidden between the text, hoping that if he read it aloud, even translated the words into those many other languages. But there was no luck, and there was nothing to find other than a small epithet left pictured on one of the pages, a note from the deceased prince. 

He could read it without any struggle at all, even recognizing the handwriting and wishing he didn’t. It was the same words that Oh Sehun had said to him before he had left Jongdae’s quarters to return to his own, with that look on his face as if he was in pain.

_ Rest well. _

 

The next morning, Jongdae was late for his lecture. 

He had overslept, not wanting to wake to his alarm that had somehow gone off despite the fact that he had not remembered setting it at all. He had realized only after throwing on fresh clothes that he had most likely set it before those three long months in that other world. Jongdae ignored the feeling in his gut that pulled him back to bed, even as he walked across the campus. He had never dreaded a class so much, but it would be painful presenting on the royal family he had come to know and love over the last few months. It would be near impossible not to speak of them as if he knew them, and as if he had some sort of intimate connection with their myth and history.

Jongdae stepped into that classroom with his head bowed, an apology already on his lips before he looked up and caught eyes with someone else sitting in on the lecture.

Oh Sehun.

The prince looked different than he did only hours ago. No longer with his hair a deep, dark brown that was trimmed in that military-esque way that all the royal princes had sported. No, this version of Sehun had pastel pink hair that fell in his face, making him look so much younger than he was. Sehun had been two years younger than Jongdae was – stating that he had been twenty-three at the time, whereas Jongdae was twenty-five.

Thinking of it now, Jongdae had forgotten that the prince had been said to die of something ritualistic in nature at the age of twenty-three. He almost wanted to reach out to the stranger that looked like his cold prince, reach for him and ask him why he had done it. Because clearly the boy had done something to allow Jongdae to return to his world.

Maybe it hadn’t been a dream at all.

Still in shock, and also trying not to stop and stare at the basically stranger as he took his seat, Jongdae still couldn’t clear his head of the similarities between the two. This stranger that looked like his prince even bit his lip in the same way – telling Jongdae that the boy was deeply in thought. 

When it was Jongdae’s turn to come up on the side and rattle off the information he had been studying and delving into all night – and basically living for the past three months – he tried to remain steady and not sneak glances over at the stranger. But that didn’t mean that the stranger’s eyes weren’t all over him while he was talking…

Returning to his seat, and then waiting for the lecture and presentation to dismiss, he didn’t miss it when he made a beeline for the door, only to be stopped by that stranger with the pink hair. He shot out a hand at Jongdae, stopping him in his tracks. Even the coolness of the man’s touch was the same as Sehun’s had been. Jongdae almost felt the need to move forward and kiss him and wonder if his lips were the same.

But Jongdae had also never managed to kiss the prince in that realm, so how could he know for sure? He wished the two had kissed, but it would have made that entire thing worse, wouldn’t it?

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” the stranger asked, his voice even the damn same. Jongdae couldn’t take the similarity anymore, wondering if there was such a thing as reincarnation or if this was some sort of magic and Sehun was just messing around with him. But the boy looked genuinely confused, and maybe a little anxious as suddenly they were the only two left within the room, the professor having even packed up and left. Jongdae took a step back, wondering what he should say.

Quiet still, the other student standing in front of him even huffed the same when he asked he spoke up again.

“What you were talking about up there, with the Oh royal family…I never thought I would hear that history from anyone but my family, but then you started up there, talking about them as if you knew them, and i just…how did you know to research them?”

Jongdae did actually answer that question, collecting his thoughts before speaking up.

“I found a few books on them, had never heard of the family before, and had immediately started to dive into the culture and history. I’ve been working on this for…” should he had said a few days or would have been better to say months as it was clearly a few months he had been working with the royal family. He decided to go with the latter, “months. When I first started, I knew nothing of them. I had one book, but as I continued I felt like I actually knew them. I…researched their gods and became invested in their stories. I researched the princes, especially the youngest, learning that he had died at such a young age and wanting to investigate.”

Jongdae had mentioned in his presentation on the family of Sehun’s death – of how it had been seemingly out of nowhere and that the family had been devastated. It had been rumored that a god had taken him away from the family, the youngest child of three, and one with the most potential. He had gotten that wording straight from the Queen’s mouth, when they had a meeting with their diplomats at one point and she had mentioned how proud she was of her youngest son.

He could feel something welling up in his eyes, but he pushed it back. 

The stranger just stared at him for a long while before nodding and saying, “My mother used to tell us about our family history, about our family tree. Said that we were descended from royalty that believed in gods and goddesses and rituals that were far more ancient than we could ever imagine. I never believed it, and have never heard of the family other than from my mother’s mouth when I was a boy. Still to this day, she’ll mention my great, great uncle as if he never really left the world, and as if he’s still with us. She always told me that she had named me after him, not so that I could live to the tragic end that he did, but so that I could put his soul at rest – that it still roamed the earth after all these years, searching for something that it was missing.”

Jongdae really wanted to cry now, because not only had the stranger in front of him said he had the same name as his prince, but he was an Oh, too. Related to the royal family that Jongdae had spent three months living with – had spent three months getting used to, and then getting close enough to that he could have considered them family, too. Jongdae could have cried right there on the spot, but instead he shook his head and whispered his next words to the stranger that wasn’t so much a stranger anymore.

“Do you believe in fate?”

 


End file.
